Golden
by YamiPaladinofChaos
Summary: [Roy x Riza] Broken hair clips can be quite troublesome at times, and Mustang is easily distracted as it is.


**_Disclaimer:_** I don't own Full Metal Alchemist.

_Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it._

Roy Mustang was a man who fancied himself in control at all times, to a point where it seemed he was near omniscient, always manipulating an event to his control.

But this was far, far too distracting and debilitating to his self control.

"Colonel, please, return to your work." Riza's familiar, chiding tone and stern look loomed in his vision.

No, no, no. She was much too close, much too _close_.

He tried tugging his eyes away from it, but those traitorous orbs refused his orders, and defected over to his heart's side of the battlefield.

The sunlight was streaming through the windows, golden and sparkling and Oh God why did it have to be so sunny today.

Why, oh why did the weather and his own Lieutenant have to conspire against him in such a way!

Clearing his throat, Mustang asked weakly, "Lieutenant... could you... close the blinds?"

Hawkeye stared at him as though he were insane. It was a beautiful day, after all. And that was exactly the problem.

"Sir, I really think it would be best if you got back to work." She said, allowing her lip to crease into a small frown.

Not the lips. He was having enough trouble as it was.

"Please, Lieutenant. Its... boiling." His lie was easily discernable to both of them, though only one knew the cause.

Arching a single perfect eyebrow, Hawkeye stared at him with disbelief. "Its perfectly cool sir. It's a wonderful day, actually." She added, glancing outside for a moment. Turning back towards him, she gave him a baleful look. "Now, _please,_ return to your work."

Cursing briefly, Mustang attempted to work, hoping to divert his attention away from the cause of his distraction

_Don't think about it. Don't think about it._

_For God's sake man, have some self control!_

Hawkeye sighed out in the corner of his eye, and shook her shoulders, letting her hair shift about, flitting like wisps of Heaven.

Swallowing, his throat dry, Mustang slowly, cautiously voiced a question. "Yo-your hair, Hawkeye."

Peering at him with a bit of surprise- and, maybe, just maybe, pleasure, she blinked just once and replied, "My hair clip broke." Her answer was simple, straight, and to the point as always.

"Ah." He managed, hoping he didn't sound too much like an idiot. "Well..." coughing slightly, he managed the tiniest of smirks. "It looks nice. You should wear it down more often." His voice was smoothed out by the end, and his smirk had turned itself all the way up to ladykiller.

Though her mouth creased into a frown, a happy light danced behind her eyes. "Its just for today, sir." Hawkeye responded smoothly, a hint of reproach in her tone. "Don't get too used to it."

"Pity." Mustang smirked, leaning back into his chair and raising a single eyebrow, staring at her. "It really would brighten up the office, and really, hair like yours shouldn't be constrained." He flashed a million watt smile, and quirked his eyebrow up a bit more.

"Don't push it, sir." The Lieutenant said, staring him down without even the slightest hint of red.

"Aw, don't be like that, Hawkeye." The Colonel remarked wryly, shaking his head nonchalantly. "Is it really too much to ask for you to be a little more relaxed?"

"I prefer to be more alert. Better safe than sorry." Hawkeye said tartly. "Otherwise, people get hurt."

The tone in her voice caused Mustang's resolve to waver. But he pushed on. "Now, now. Lets not put a downer on such a nice day." He shook his head, an exasperated smile on his face.

Biting her lip, obviously holding back a reprimand, Hawkeye simply said, "Very well sir."

"Now then, with that settled, let's continue about that hair of yours." Mustang said, continuing his earlier train of thought without a single skip of a beat, "I think it would absolutely stunning in the moonlight. In fact, I know this wonderful place downtown-"

"No dice sir." Hawkeye replied disapprovingly.

A slight grin on his face, the Flame Alchemist leaned into his chair. "Are you sure?"

"Get back to work sir." The Lieutenant replied in a no-nonsense tone of voice. "If my hair is going to be a distraction, I may as well crop it again."

"There's no need for such an extreme measure, Lieutenant." Mustang assured her, smiling slightly, all the while fearing for those golden tresses. "I am perfectly capable of controlling myself."

"Then please, if you will, return to your work." Hawkeye said exasperatedly, rolling her eyes in annoyance.

Sighing, the Colonel put pen to paper, and the Lieutenant returned to her desk. After a minute or so, his eyes wandered back up, and the sunlight hit at just the right angle.

"Your staring again, sir." Hawkeye dead panned, staring at him disapprovingly from her paperwork.

"Terribly sorry Lieutenant." Mustang apologized, inclining his head. "But really, your hair-"

"Is too distracting for you?" she said, arching a regal eyebrow.

"Well... that is to say... perhaps." The Flame Alchemist replied lamely.

"Sir. I think its best if I find myself a hair clip. This is getting ridiculous." Hawkeye sighed, and moved to stand.

"There's no need for that, Lieutenant." Mustang said quickly, looking up quickly.

"Hmph. You've wasted twenty minutes because of it, sir." She responded, looking at him dead on.

"Tell you what. You wear it down more often, and I'll try to do my work more often." He said smoothly, setting his elbows on the desk and supporting his chin with his crossed hands.

"With all due respect, I sincerely doubt you'll follow through." Hawkeye said plainly, looking at him disbelievingly. "Are we quite done?"

"Are you telling me you don't trust me?" the Colonel said, raising his eyebrow. "I'm hurt, Hawkeye."

"Do forgive me. But I find it hard to believe you when it comes to these matters." She replied easily.

"Perhaps if you would simply consider wearing your hair down more often, and try wearing something a bit more daring, say, a miniskirt-"

"That's enough sir." Hawkeye said, her voice thin as she clicked the safety off her gun, staring at him with clear intent as he swallowed nervously. With a single movement, she grabbed a rubber band and tied a quick ponytail.

"There. Now, once more, are we done?" her lip curled slightly and she moved her gun ever so slightly out of the holster.

Sighing, Mustang nodded, and set his pen to his paper again. It was worth a try.


End file.
